Becoming Clove

A Weird Visit

I awoke the next day to a knocking at my front door. I yawned and glanced at my clock. Eight o'clock on a Saturday morning.

It definitely couldn't be one of my friends, then. Nobody my age (that's fifteen, by the way) would willingly wake up this early.

"I'd like to see Jenna, please," said a voice. Damn. I snuggled down into my bed, sighing, knowing I'd have to get up. Why, oh why, couldn't this idiotic person leave me to sleep in peace?

"I think she's asleep," I heard my mother saying hesitantly.

"It's really important," insisted the stranger. I was too sleepy to try to figure out who it was. Then I heard footsteps walking to my room.

Suddenly the door burst open. In the door stood Jenna.

"Jenna?' I asked in astionishment. Now I was wide awake. The events of last night were starting to come back to me.

"Sorry if this is bad timing," said Jenna although she didn't sound sorry at all, just impatient.

I sat up in my bed. "Are you ok?" I asked concernedly.

"Yeah," she said offhandedly. "Listen, I've got a favour to ask of you."

"Anything," I said, smiling slightly. This was more like Jenna. Jenna was always asking favours of me; wanting to go shopping, borrowing cash, wanting to copy my maths homework.

"I just wanted to borrow a book," Jenna said.

"Which book?" I asked casually, although I knew the answer.

"The Hunger Games," said Jenna. "And Catching Flames. And Mockingbird."

I looked pained. "Catching Fire, and Mockingjay." I corrected.

"Whatever," Jenna snapped as she walked over to my bookcase. I was surprised. Jenna rarely snapped at people, and especially not me.

I got up from my bed and pulled out my slightly tattered copy of The Hunger Games.

"Once you finish that, come and get Catching Fire," I informed her.

"Oh, I will," Jenna smiled. Then she walked out of my room.

"Wait!" I called.

Jenna turned around. "What?" she asked warily.

"About last night...." I started.

Jenna interrupted me. "It's ok, Tia. I'm fine. I was just tired."

I looked sceptical. She hadn't seemed tired. Still, I'd try to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Thanks for last night, though," she continued. "It was really fun."

"Uh... you're welcome," I replied.

I walked Jenna to the door.

"Just so you know, I'll always be there for you," I said spontaneously.

Jenna nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

There was an awkward silence.

Then I said;

"So, um have you called Greg yet?" I asked her curiously.

She looked at me puzzledly.

"Who?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The guy at the movie counter last night."

She still looked blank.

"You told him to call you maybe?"

I couldn't believe Jenna didn't remember him. But then again, she had been kind of distracted. Suddenly I had a brainwave.

"Give me your phone," I said as I stretched out my hand.

"Why?" she asked boredly.

I had had enough. I snatched the phone off her and clicked into her photos.

"Give it back!" screetched Jenna, her eyes blazing.

"Here!" I shoved the phone into her face. She grabbed it. I watched as she took in the photo of her with arm wrapped around the guy at the movie counter. His nametag read Greg.

Jenna stared for it for a couple of seconds and then wrenched open my door.

"Jen!" I called. "Uh, I'll see you Monday?"

"Yeah, whatever," said Jenna flatly.

"Hope you enjoy the book-" I was cut off as she slammed the door.

"Is everything ok?" my mother called.

"Yeah, fine." I answered, feeling slightly hurt. "I guess Jenna really wanted to read the book."

I flopped down on my bed and gazed up at my celing.

The cast of the Hunger Games stared back at me.

For some reason my eyes kept on flashing to Isabelle Fuhrman.

I sighed deeply and picked up Mockingjay.